


something else i can't explain

by pearl_o



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 12:35:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9549209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearl_o/pseuds/pearl_o
Summary: Yuuri's still settling in to St Petersburg, but it already feels like home.





	

Victor is sound asleep by the time Yuuri finishes his shower. Yuuri stops in the doorway to the bedroom, just to take in the sight--Victor sprawled out on his stomach beneath the pile of blankets, dead to the world.

It makes him smile again, even though his face already almost hurts from how much smiling he's done today.

Yuuri's not surprised to find Victor in this state, by any means. It was one of the first things he discovered after the first time they slept together--which is to say, Yuuri discovered a _lot_ of things then, not least about himself, but one of the less, well, private things was this: the way Victor passes out completely as soon as they're done.

(He snores, too, which is funny, because he doesn't usually.)

They haven't finished unpacking Yuuri's things yet, so most of it is still scattered around in boxes and suitcases making a mess of Victor's apartment. Yuuri has the vague sense they should do something about that soon, but not enough to actually work on it, and Victor doesn't seem to care, either. 

That does mean that Yuuri's own robe is nowhere to be found, though, so as he takes off his towel he grabs Victor's robe from the hook on the door and wraps himself up in that. It's soft and cozy and thick, and when Yuuri sniffs the collar it smells like clean Victor and his bath products. 

It feels very pleasantly daring to take something of Victor's and wear it without asking permission, even though Yuuri knows Victor would most likely be very pleased if he discovered it. 

Yuuri makes his way out of the bedroom and toward the living room. Makkachin is lying on the couch, head resting on his paws. When Yuuri turns on the light, he raises his head and gives Yuuri a pathetic look.

Yuuri was heading towards the kitchen, but he reroutes himself to come sit beside Makkachin and scratch his ears. "Why so sad, boy? What is the matter?"

Makkachin makes a small yowl and slowly and carefully raises himself up and off the couch and towards the corner of the room, where his food and water bowl sit. They are both, Yuuri notes with a sudden jolt of guilt, empty. He and Victor had both forgotten when they got home tonight, too engrossed in each other to stop on the way to the bedroom.

"I'm so sorry!" Yuuri says. Makkachin sits patiently in place while Yuuri rushes around, flustered, filling up the bowls with fresh water and food. Victor is the one who always does this, so it takes him a minute to find where it's kept, and then to decide how much Victor usually portions out. He does go ahead and add one of the special bits of meat Victor keeps in the fridge and lets him have every few nights.

There's not much else in the refrigerator besides that, or in the cupboards either. Victor has probably never used any of the shiny pots that hang just-so all around the place, but then, Yuuri doesn't really know how to cook, either. 

Yuuri takes a sparkling water and a banana and eats over the counter. Makkachin finishes first, and comes over to lean his body weight against Yuuri's legs. He's much more cheerful now that he's been tended to, but Yuuri still feels guilty. 

"Should I make it up to you?" Yuuri says, crouching down. "Should we go for a walk?"

He's speaking Japanese to Makkachin, since it's just the two of them together. Victor would pout if Yuuri did it while he was around, but Yuuri doesn't do it on purpose, really. It just feels nice to be able to use that language when everything outside is Russian and he can't follow more than a few words, if he's lucky. At least when Yuuri first went to America, he knew a bit more English than this. 

After so many months at the onsen, Makkachin has picked up enough Japanese to understand him. At the word _walk_ , his tail starts wagging furiously, and he licks Yuuri's nose. Yuuri takes that as a yes.

"All right," he says. "Just let me get dressed and then we can go out, okay?"

Back in the bedroom, Victor is still asleep, though he's changed positions, rolling onto his back. One of his arms is stretched out at his side, spread across the half of the bed Yuuri's been sleeping on. His hair's lying in his face, and Yuuri really wants to touch it, brush it away--but if he does that, Victor will wake up, and probably other things will happen, and Makkachin won't get his promised walk. So Yuuri resists.

He pulls on the his clothes from where they're scattered across the floor from earlier. His scarf and gloves and heavy coat are all in the living room, closer to the front door, mixed in with Victor's.

It's cold outside, but Yuuri can deal with the chill, and Makkachin doesn't seem to mind, either.

Victor had been worried that Yuuri wouldn't have enough warm clothes. The weather's much rougher out here than in Hasetsu, he'd told Yuuri with a frown, and Yuuri had to remind him that he's spent the last five years in Michigan, which has winters, too.

"I thought you were in Detroit," said Victor, whose interest in and knowledge of geography has always been limited to places where he's competed.

It's late enough in the evening to be getting relatively dark, and the streets around Victor's apartment are fairly quiet and peaceful. Yuuri looks at the signs as they walk and practices sounding out the Cyrillic letters. He's getting pretty good at the alphabet, and sight reading like that. He's supposes it's progress, even though doing so doesn't bring him closer to knowing what the words actually mean. 

After a few minutes he finds himself starting down the way towards the rink where they practice. He's not sure if it's already become second nature after so few days here, or if maybe Makkachin has been guiding him without him noticing. Both ideas seem plausible. 

There's a part of him that's tempted to just keep going. That's stupid, though. It's closed by now; it's not like Hasetsu, where the Ice Castle or Minako's studio were there for him whenever he wanted. He can't just go and spend the whole night practicing, over and over, pushing himself until everything is quiet and still in the center of it all.

And--aside from that whisper in the corner of his mind, Yuuri realizes, he doesn't want to. Not tonight, anyway. There will be other nights when his mind won't shut up, and he'll have to figure out what to do then, but for now he's content to head back to the warm apartment and the person waiting there.

"Let's go home," he tells Makkachin, and they turn around to retrace their steps back to their building.

As Yuuri unlocks the front door, he's greeted by Victor's trill. "

" _Yuuri_ , hello!"

Makkachin, who seconds ago seemed exhausted and ready to fall asleep on the couch again, perks his head up and shoves his way past Yuuri's legs and into the apartment ahead of him. Yuuri follows him in slowly, closing the door behind him as he begins to unwrap his scarf and kick off his boots.

Victor is kneeling in the doorway to the kitchen, clad in only his underwear, arms wrapped around Makkachin in a fierce hug. "You are so chilly! My poor frozen puppy!" 

He looks up and catches Yuuri's gaze, flashing him a smile that would have given Yuuri a heart attack ten months ago and still, if he's completely honest with himself, makes his breath catch more often than not.

"Aren't you going to come give me a hug, too, Yuuri?" Victor says.

Yuuri rolls his eyes but he knows he's smiling stupidly again. 

"Yuuuuuuuri," Victor says again, stretching out the sounds ridiculously as he stands up. 

Yuuri makes him wait until he's hung up his coat properly, at least, but that's as far as he can manage before he crosses the room and lets Victor take him into his arms.

"You're cold," Victor says, kissing the tip of Yuuri's ear.

"You're warm," Yuuri responds. 

Makkachin huffs beside them.

"I made tea, do you want tea?" Victor says.

Yuuri nods, even though he's pressed up close enough that it just makes his glasses knock against Victor's bare shoulder. "Yes please," he says. 

"Mm," Victor says, "pay the toll first?"

Yuuri tilts his head back and gives Victor a quick peck of a kiss.

"You are a cheapskate, Yuuri," Victor says, "but toll accepted. Go, go sit down and I'll bring you your tea."

Yuuri settles himself next to Makkachin on the couch, petting him with one hand while he watches Victor move around.

He's only been back inside for a minute, but strangely enough he's already warm again.


End file.
